In the first chapter of Bottlemania, journalist Elizabeth Royte promises to deal with two sets of questions. "One has concrete answers: what are the physical differences between tap water and bottle, and what is water bottling actually doing to the environment and local communities? The others are more abstract....is it ethical to profit from [water's] sale?" While Royte amasses a vast quantity of information, she really only muddies the waters of debate because of her intense ambivalence and tendency to load up the unnecessary detail. The book provides enough data to construct a coherent argument about bottled water, but the reader has to do it himself, since Royte is so maddeningly muddle-headed about the subject.
The bottled-water industry is gushing. Last year, Americans consumed 50 billion single-serve bottles of water alone. This, in a country "where 89 percent of tap water meets or exceeds federal health and safety regulations," should be fodder for a tremendous polemic against the industry whose plastic bottles, fossil-fueled delivery trucks, and water-table draining pumps are one part of our nation's affluenza that threatens the biosphere. Instead Royte has a difficult time drawing any conclusions about the industry, despite the clarity that her own evidence demonstrates.
Throughout Bottlemania, Royte follows the battle of Fryeburg, a small town in Maine, against Nestle, the multi-national bottled industry giant, and its Poland Springs subsidiary. Nestle, a diversified food giant "with estimated profits of $7.46 billion in 2006," owns water brands across the country and the world: Perrier, Arrowhead, Calistoga, Ozarka, Ice Mountain, Deer Park and Zephyrhills. Again, the struggle seems entirely straightforward: A multinational corporation comes to town with a slick PR campaign promising economic development in exchange for natural resources while using nasty, if legal, tactics to obtain what it wants; a grassroots movement in the town resists. Again Royte gets all fuzzy-headed about the situation: "But the situation in Fryeburg isn't so black-and-white. A faction here is okay with Poland Spring if it means the company will build a plant, which will bring jobs and money into town, or even if it simply agrees to make steady payments to the town." Sure there are always people who will sell their natural resources to global predators, but they will discover, eventually, the true cost of doing business with an entity that is ultimately only concerned about its profit margins.
Royte compounds her analytical difficulties by getting caught up in the story of Howard Dearborn, an 88-year-old Fryeburg landowner, who claims he was mislead into helping a member of the local gentry in league with Nestle. Dearborn makes a lot of claims about the damage to the local waters by Nestle that either seem dubious or are impossible for Royte to verify. The author spends much time and angst over this, where again it seems very straightforward: The old guy is pissed off because he got played for a sucker and he's throwing a whole pot of noodles at the wall hoping that one will stick.
Along the way, Royte makes an effort to analyze the state of the tap water in the United States. The takeaway for Seattleites? Be very thankful that we have our own 90,000-acre Cedar River watershed that provides very clean water, and install a filter on your tap to protect against old pipes in your home or in the water system